The Best Thing
by inspired.by.music
Summary: Two unlikely strangers meet in an unlikely way. This is the story of how they found each other, and the twists and turns along the way. George/OC Fred/OC This is post-Hogwarts, with one minor change. Fred didn't die. Don't like it, don't read. Rated for romantic themes and such.
1. 1: At First Sight

**Chapter 1**

**At First Sight **

"You know this is bloody pathetic, right mate?" Why did he invite Fred? Fred who already had a girlfriend and couldn't possibly understand the fact that he thought he may have found the one, just hadn't plucked up the courage to introduce himself yet. This was not normal George Weasley behavior. George Weasley was witty and charming and hilarious. George Weasley didn't get tongue tied when he talked to women. George Weasley's palms didn't get all sweaty and his throat didn't get all dry and he didn't start stammering like Professor Quirrell. And George Weasley most certainly didn't sit at the bar at the Three Broomsticks with a firewhiskey in hand, watching a girl he'd never spoken to carry on and have a good time. However, for the last three Friday nights that is exactly where he found himself. "It's not normal mate… it's almost… stalking."

George was all but ignoring Fred at this point. He _wasn't_ stalking her. Three Thursdays ago he hadn't even known this girl existed. He was out with Lee and Fred, just having some fun, unwinding from a particularly long day at the shop, when he heard something. In all the commotion he hadn't been able to decipher it at first, but as the night went on he came to realize it was a laugh. And the most beautiful one he'd ever heard at that. The sort of laugh that makes you want to tell joke after joke, just so you can keep hearing it. Any girl with that laugh is one he wanted to meet. Then he matched the laugh to a face and his heart almost stopped for a moment. She had long, flowing blonde hair that fell in waves down well past her shoulders, clear blue eyes that reminded him of the sun reflecting on water, a smile that could light up room, and freckles splayed in the perfect amount across her face.

After first laying eyes on her, he had had trouble the remainder of the night focusing on anything else and when Fred noticed this he of course relentlessly teased George about it. Telling him to man up and go talk to the girl. But to George that was easier said than done. His throat went dry and his mind went numb every time he considered going over and striking up a conversation. Besides two out of the three times he'd seen her, she'd been laughing and carrying on with some other bloke, even though it didn't look like they were attached, it was excuse enough for George not to risk making a fool of himself. But out of curiosity he returned the following Friday around the same time, and sure enough, whether it was dumb luck or something else, there she was. This was the third Friday in a row and he still hadn't gathered enough bloody courage to utter a single word to her. Fred kept insisting that he should keep drinking, get some liquid courage, but the last thing George wanted was to be sloshed on his first impression to this girl.

"…yes, two please. Thanks Rosmerta." It was, in fact, that very woman's voice that pulled him from whatever thoughts he had fallen into. She was standing not two bar stools over from him, leaning over the counter as she waited for whatever drinks she had just ordered. George caught Fred's eye, who was twitching his head quite obviously in the blonde girl's direction. His eyes flickered back to her, and his mouth opened as if he were going to say something. She must have felt his eyes on her though, because her head turned to look at him and his eyes locked on hers for a moment.

"Hullo…" She said, almost nervously, before she scooped up the two shot glasses and hurried away, George just barely noticing a blush on her cheeks in the dim lighting. It took him a moment to figure out what had just happened. Then he realized what he must have looked like, staring at her with a dumb expression, gaping like a fish out of water. Being sloshed probably would've been an improvement.

"I'm an idiot…" George mumbled and took a swig of firewhiskey. Fred clapped him on the shoulder.

"At least we're both on the same page, mate."

oOoOoOoOo

"Oi, Iz, what's with the bloke?" Isabel's friend Frank asked, nodding to the odd ginger at the bar, as she set their drinks on the table. He must have only noticed her blush then because he stood abruptly to his feet. "Wha'd the git say to you?!"

"Oh, sit down you big brute." She muttered and took her own seat, he followed suit. Talking about stature alone, big brute was a pretty good description of Frank. He was six-foot four as compared to her five-foot six and was built like a heavyweight wrestler. But for the most part, he was like an oversized teddy bear- albeit a bit overprotective- and had been Isabel's best friend since they were only children, even before they went to Hogwarts together. Now that they were both graduated, Isabel working as a healer at St. Mungos and Frank working for the Ministry, they had designated Friday nights as their time together. Their other friend Sarah usually came out with them too, but she had been called away for an interview last minute.

"Do I have something on my face or something? He was just... _staring_ at me..." She was positive there must be something and instinctively wiped her face with her hand. After not finding anything on her face she looked down, thinking maybe her outfit was in some way appalling. The strange man had clearly been looking at her before she noticed and after she had he stared awkwardly until she rushed away. Maybe she smelled…

"Oi, you look fine Izzy." He patted her head with one of his large mitts of a hand, then downed his shot in a single gulp. Frank had noticed the ginger watching her. He looked like some pansy trying build the courage to ask her out. But Isabel was oblivious to those sorts of things, almost a bit naive in a way and he wasn't going to be the one to inform her. "So, what say we get completely _smashed_ tonight? In celebration. You only turn 20 once in your life you know." Frank gave a booming chuckle and a lopsided grin.

"You're an awful influence. You know that Franky?" Isabel laughed in return.

"It's the only reason you keep me around." He said, nudging her own shot glass toward her. With a slightly mischievous glint in her eye, she picked up the small glass and downed hers as well.

oOoOoOoOo

The more fun it appeared the girl was having, the more George assumed his chances were tanking, and the worse his mood became. He decided he rather disliked that large troll of a man who seemed to be able to make her laugh at every turn. The other two times there had been another girl who seemed about the same age as the other two, but this time it was only the two and George wasn't liking it a bit, feeling a pang of jealousy every time he made her laugh. Fred, who had gotten tired of watching George brood, left to go meet his girlfriend Angelina somewhere. So now it was just George and his barely touched firewhiskey.

He was actually getting sick of himself at this point. The worst thing she could do was say no right? George looked at his drink, considering finishing it off but deciding against it, and set the glass back on the bar, then stood from his stool. Of course right at that moment the door swung open, the door bell chiming as it clanged against the door. He wouldn't have paid much attention to it normally, but the person who entered came right into his path to his blonde mystery girl, blocking his line of vision and interrupting his plans.

oOoOoOoOo

"Iz!" Isabel turned around, hearing a familiar voice call her name. Sarah was grinning and practically glowing, navigating around tables toward her. "Iz, I got the job! I'll start as the new Transfiguration professor this fall at Hogwarts!" Isabel grinned at her friend and hugged her in a congratulatory fashion.

"That's great!" She laughed and pushed a glass into Sarah's hand. "And cause for celebration!"

"Looks like you two already started that without me. Happy birthday by the way." Sarah laughed. Frank's booming laugh was heard next when he clapped his large palm on Sarah's shoulder, nearing toppling the petite girl.

"Yeah, congrats Freckles. Now drink up." He clinked his glass on Sarah's, sloshing some of the amber liquid over his fingers. Sarah laughed good-naturedly and shook her head.

"And if I get drunk off _my_ rocker, who's gonna apparate the two of you home?"

"Oi! I am _not_ drunk, just a bit squiffy is all." Isabel protested with a giggle. "Franky's the drunk one, he drank half of my drinks and has ordered twice as many."

"'Ave not!" He argued, but Isabel chuckled and pushed his shoulder with her forefinger to prove her point. Frank stumbled back a step or two before righting himself, then gave a toothy smile before finishing the drink in his hand.

"Yup. 'Snuff for you." Sarah took the empty glass from his hand and set it on the table.

"Yes, _mum_." Frank said, giving her a look. Sarah rolled her eyes.

"Anymore and you'll be singing the Weird Sisters a top the bar again."

"Oi, a bloke gets carried away _one_ time..."

"I believe that happened on more than one occasion actually." Isabel laughed.

"Regardless!" Frank said, changing the topic with a smirk. "You two-" He poked each of them playfully in the center of their forehead. "-can't stop me." Though despite what he said, Frank's next drink was a cup of coffee.

oOoOoOoOo

George watched the happy exchange a moment and then as the three of them left. He had taken too long to act and now all he could do was hope she'd come back the following week. But much to his disappointment, she didn't. She wasn't there the Friday after that either. In fact, a whole month went by and he didn't catch a single glimpse of her. After that George was starting to believe he had missed his chance and Fred, worried for his twin, kept George busy and out of the Three Broomsticks on Friday nights. Fred, with the purest of intentions, even convinced him to go on a double date with him and Angelina. Though the date ended in disaster. The girl was pretty enough, but had a snide remark for everything and it didn't take long for George to get thoroughly annoyed. He tried to be polite and at least mask his distaste for her attitude, she was Angelina's friend afterall, by telling jokes. Though the girl just had a generally unpleasant way about her, far too stuck up for George's taste. He managed through the first half of the date, but when she started in on how "working in a joke shop isn't a legitimate career," he had to excuse himself. He went back to the shop and didn't return for the rest of the night.

George didn't believe in love at first sight, but he couldn't deny that immediately liking he had felt for that girl in the Three Broomsticks. So much so that even after all these weeks, he couldn't get her out of his head, and every potential date was compared to that laugh. To that face. And he simply couldn't find one that measured up in his book.

oOoOoOoOo

"Have you seen my-" Isabel's best friend and flatmate, Sarah, tossed her her lime green uniform robe embroidered with the Healer's symbol of a crossed wand and bone. "Oh, haha, thanks."

"Sure Iz. Going into work on an off shift _again_ are we?" Sarah asked a bit incredulously. Things had been crazy at St. Mungos since the summer started and Isabel had been called in so many times, it was to the point she couldn't do laundry fast enough and barely had a moment to sleep let alone do anything else.

"Yeah... Tell Franky I'm sorry. Gotta cancel on you two again."

"You know, I'm starting to forget what you look like. Sometimes I think I'm sharing this flat with an invisible person." Sarah chuckled softly, only half joking.

"Sorry, Sarah." Isabel frowned a bit, truly regretful on how little time she had for her friends as of late. "Hopefully it'll slow down soon, but for now..."

"I know, Iz, you don't have to apologize to me. I understand."

"Right," Isabel grabbed her wand and threw on her robe, fastening the front over her tank top and shorts as she headed out the door. "Oh! I'd been meaning to ask. How're things going with Ben?" She asked and Sarah beamed in return.

"Great! I'll tell you more later, sometime after you get back from work." Sarah said, watching her friend scurrying to get ready for work and trying not to laugh.

"Oi, right...well, see you...ha...when I see you I guess." Isabel laughed softly, though she still felt a bit bad that she seemed to never have time for her friends.

"Right, see you when I see you, now get going, you're already late."

"Right...oh-" Isabel glanced at the clock. "Right! Merlin!" She grabbed her knapsack and headed out the door. Sarah watched her friend go and sighed. She understood, but that didn't stop her from being disappointed a bit.

She stood and finished getting ready to meet Frank. They were going to a muggle movie theater to watch one of those "moving pictures" and they didn't even use magic! Frank had a theory that witches and wizards secretly made the movies and sold them to muggles, but Isabel thought that was pretty far fetched and Sarah said it wasn't true. She had been looking forward this night for weeks, it really stunk that she had to miss it for work. This line of thinking sent Sarah into a mental monologue about everything she was going to miss while she was off living her dream job this school year. Although in that respect, it wouldn't be terribly different from being at Beauxbatons, apart from the fact that Hogwarts _was_ her dream job, if the rest of the summer went this way, she wouldn't see blonde head nor tail of Isabel before she left.

And that all led her to think about Ben. Even though Sarah had known him for over a year now, they had only really been dating these last couple months, when she returned from Bauxbatons for the summer. She was nearly twenty and he was the first serious relationship she had ever had. She couldn't help wondering if the time apart would affect them. He already knew about her career and it's demand and had reassured her that he'd be visiting whenever he could and they would make plans for the holidays. But Sarah was good at worrying and over thinking and she just couldn't help it. She didn't realize how much her inner thoughts and rambling had distracted her until a large black bear, that she recognized as Frank's patronus, appeared in her living room and spoke in Frank's booming voice-which oddly enough quite suited the bear.

"Oh stop primping and talking to yourself and get over here. I don't want to miss a moment of the movie!" Sarah stuck her tongue out at the bear, even though she knew Frank couldn't actually see or hear her and added.

"How would you know if I'm talking to myself? Bloody oaf..."

"Now, put that tongue back in your mouth and get over here! Oh, and it isn't polite to call names." The bear disappeared and Sarah glared at the spot it had just gone from for a moment.

"Blooming giant... thinks he knows everything." Sarah took her time after that, straightening her hair even though originally she was just gonna throw it up, and then grabbing her purse and heading out the door. Her and Isabel lived in a flat in a complex in the muggle city of London. It was amazing how easy it was to conceal their existence there too. All they needed was a simple charm that made the hall appear to end before their flat door, a few muggle deterring spells, and some expansion charms and they had a full size house to their own. The narrow four by six segment of hallway outside their door between the physical barriers of the walls and the magical barrier of their charm was the designated apparating space. Though it was more important for apparating in, it was force of habit to go there for apparating out as well. And then Sarah was gone with a _pop_, reappearing _many_ miles away at the Three Broomsticks.

The cozy pub had become somewhat of a meeting place for them, no matter where they were going or what they were doing, they waited on each other there. Sometimes enjoying a frothy mug of butterbeer by the fireplace, other times conversing with the largely diverse patrons that passed through. At any rate, it had become somewhat of a tradition for them to meet there before hand. This time though, Frank was waiting outside for Sarah and as soon as he saw her he hurried over.

"About bloody time!" He said, taking her arm in the standard form for side-along apparation.

"Well maybe if-" But Sarah was abruptly silenced by the overwhelming sensation of apparating. They reappeared in the Leaky Cauldron, from which they would use muggle transportation, specifically the Underground, to get to the muggle movie theater. Once on solid ground again though, Sarah yanked her arm from Frank's grip and pushed his shoulder. He didn't even budge an inch. "Git."

"Huh? 'Sthat Freckles?" He chuckled and ruffled her hair, earning a glare from Sarah.

"Nothing, 'Sget to that movie before we miss the whole thing." She laughed and gave him another great push before running ahead of him. Of course Frank had caught her in two bounds and grabbed her around the middle, lifting her off the ground and tucking her under his arm as if she were a great watermelon. "Oi! Pu'me down you big brute!" Sarah demanded, kicking her legs out behind them.

"Now, you know better than that." He patted her head with his free hand. "What do you say?" She craned her neck to glare up at him.

"Pu'me down, or you'll be puking slugs for a week." Frank had known Sarah long enough to know that ninety-nine percent of the time she was more talk than bite, though it was the one percent that scared him. Her and Isabel were quite alike in that way. It took a lot to get either of them truly upset, but once you got there, it wasn't pretty. But he was fairly certain this was included in the ninety-nine percentile and simply grinned. He had known her since first year after all and had gotten pretty good at discerning this. Frank opened his mouth to respond, but another voice cut him off.

"Sarah?"

"Ben!" Frank let Sarah out of his grasp and she ran straight into Ben's arms, hugging him tightly. "What're you doing here? I thought you weren't gonna be able to make it?" She was beaming up at him, clearly excited that he had ended up making it. Frank, however, did not share her enthusiasm. He didn't care for this Ben bloke, something didn't sit right. Though Isabel said Frank was just being overprotective as he had a tendency to be, he just didn't like the man. Ben was even wearing that arrogant smirk that some would mistake for a genuine smile.

"I managed to get out of my prior commitment, so I could be here with you." Ben smiled down at Sarah and brushed a piece of her flyaway hair into place, earning a soft giggle from her. Frank rolled his eyes.

"Wonderful. We're late. Let's get a move on you two."

"Hm, yes. Don't want to miss the movie." Ben wrapped an arm around Sarah's back, walking with her and sending Frank a look. Frank returned it with one of his own and moved to Sarah's other side. He'd be keeping an eye on him. There wasn't a single thing he liked about this pretty boy.

**Author's Note: Jenn here. This story I mostly wrote for my own enjoyment, but decided to put it on here for kicks and giggles. I have nearly the whole thing finish and will post one chapter each week. Possibly faster if people actually read it and review :) Blessings. 3 Jenn**


	2. 2: Accidents and Second Chances

**Chapter 2**

**Accidents and Second Chances**

It was Friday night again and George found himself working late. Fred had tried to get George to go out again, but after two miserably failed attempts at getting set up by Fred, George flat out refused. He knew Fred meant well, but he didn't need his brother setting him up on dates. He could find a girl himself. In fact, in George's mind he already had. It was just a matter of finding her _again_. He sighed, muttering to himself as he checked the whizbangs stock for damage or imperfections. He found himself pretty distracted by his thoughts and considered for a moment paying a visit to the Three Broomsticks. He shook it off and began to wonder if it wasn't time to move on. It had been over a month after all. What if he never saw this girl again? He didn't even know her, what if she was like all the others? Pretty on the outside and horrid on the inside. There was a piece of him though that thought that couldn't be true. How could a woman with that laugh and that smile be anything but just as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside?

George's hands were still checking the whizbangs, but more absentmindedly at that point than anything as his thoughts went back and forth, and then finally settled on trying to think of a way to find her. She appeared younger than him, as did her companions, but that didn't tell him much. The only thing he overheard was the other girl got a job at Hogwarts, taking McGonagall's old post, but again that didn't help him much. Outside of running into her again at the Three Broomsticks, he had absolutely no idea where to even begin to try finding her. It was possible, though he didn't think likely, that he could find the name and possibly place of residence of the new Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts, but not only was that a long-shot, how would he go about it? Even if he got her address, he couldn't very well go to some girl's home, who was a perfect stranger to him, and start asking her questions.

George started imagining the conversation in his head and had to laugh at himself. _Hullo miss, I know you have no idea who I am, but I was watching this blonde woman at the Three Broomsticks and noticed you accompanied her, but you don't matter to me at all, I just wanna know your friend's name. And could you by chance tell me where she lives?_ Every possible outcome he could think of ended with him petrified on this woman's doorstep. He could make up a story and try to get the information out of her that way, but he didn't like the idea of lying to her that much, especially if she was friend's with the blonde girl. He would just have to-

_BANG!_ The explosion occurred so suddenly, George didn't even have time to register what had happened before there was a blinding pain in his right shoulder and the sound of more explosions. And then there was nothing. Only blackness.

oOoOoOoOo

Isabel was two hours into her shift at St. Mungo's, running on little more than a pepper-up potion and the organized chaos that made up the urgent care wing where she worked. Never a dull moment to sit and rest her eyes, therefore the opportunity for nodding off was slim to none. The shift she had worked before this was twelve hours long and she had managed three hours of sleep before being called in for another eight hours. She'd spend her lunch napping in the on-call room and then snacking whenever she got a free moment. She didn't often work that much in such a short period of time, but it did happen occasionally and she knew how to handle it.

St. Mungo's was separated into six floors based on the nature of the injuries treated on each respective floor. The fifth floor was for Spell Damage, on the fourth was Potions and Plant Poisoning, the third was Magical Bugs and Diseases, the second treated Creature-Induced Injuries, the first dealt with Artefact Accidents, and finally, the ground floor contained the Emergency Department. The Emergency Department dealt with any and all moderate to severe and life-threatening physical injuries. It was also the overflow for all the other floors and for the more extreme and/or miscellaneous cases. This meant that the Healers who worked in this department had to be particularly skilled at healing severe open wounds, bones, gashes, etc. along with being able to treat the same ailments as any other floor in the hospital. This made being a Healer in the Emergency Department the most demanding job in the hospital and often times the most gory as well.

Despite its demand on her life and its sometimes gruesome and difficult nature, Isabel liked her job. She enjoyed using her talents to help and assist those in need of it, even if it sometimes ruined her plans or gave her nightmares. Her normal work schedule was one twelve hour shift, three days a week, usually Monday, Wednesday, Thursday, and then every other week a twelve hour shift on Friday. It was one of the Fridays she was scheduled to work and had come in as normal, but then was asked by the Healer-in-Charge, Leopold Latchworthy, to cover another eight hours. Isabel very rarely turned down overtime, mostly because she found it incredibly difficult to tell her boss she couldn't do it. But now she was practically counting down the minutes until four when she'd finally get some real sleep.

Isabel had just finished mending the right shin bone of a twelve year old girl, who had fallen off her broom while practicing quidditch in her backyard with her older brother. She was about to take her "lunch" break a bit early and get in a quick nap while it seemed things were moving slow, but she never got the chance. Greg, an emergency medical wizard (EMW) who Isabel worked with, dashed in through the doors, pushing a gurney. EMWs are a sort of healer who respond to a signal-which is simply the incantation _promptum_- given by injured witches or wizards, who cannot under their own power get to St. Mungo's. They go and assess the patient, then transport them to the hospital for further treatment. Her eyes were drawn immediately to the person on the gurney though. First and foremost to his gaping and almost complete exposed, bloody shoulder as she rushed over to the side of the man.

Examining the most obvious and extreme injury first, she looked over the man's right shoulder, which was more a mangled mass of flesh and blood through which she could see parts of bone. Then she went on to quickly inspect the burns that spread across his chest, up his neck, and down his arm. His shirt had already been cut away, but given the nature of the wound and burns, she rather doubted there had been much left of it to begin with. His skin and hair were streaked with black soot and he appeared to be unconscious. Isabel had made all these observations in only but a few seconds and looked up incredulously at Greg.

"What in Merlin's name happened to this poor man?!"

"From what we could tell? The loon lit a firework in an enclosed room with hundreds of other fireworks. Took out part of his shop along with that shoulder, 'e did. Bloke's lucky to be breathing." Isabel half listened to Greg's explanation as she pushed the gurney so it was lined up with the closest bed available. The Emergency Department was set up like any other of its sort. Wide sets of double-doors, that Greg had just wheeled this man through, were at the one end of the large open space. Those doors opened directly into a private alley where the vehicle the EMWs used for patients who couldn't be apparated came in and out of. On the opposite side of the room were the doors that led into the waiting room, and from one set of doors to the other there was quite a lot of space, taken up by many hospital beds each with their own curtain partitions that hung from the ceiling.

"What's his name?"

"George. George Weasley." He answered.

"I need Skele-Gro, Burn-healing paste, Blood-Replenishing potion, and an extra set of hands. Now!" She yelled out orders as she took out her wand and levitated the injured man from the gurney to the bed. After settling the man in the bed, Isabel pointed the tip of her wand at the severely mangled shoulder that was still oozing blood. Given the paleness of the man's skin and slowed flow of blood, she figured he had already lost a lot, far too much in fact. She was working on closing the wound, forcibly moving slowly in mending the bits of skin and muscle and sinew because of how mutilated his flesh was, when another Healer appeared beside her with the items she had called for. "We need to get that Blood-Replenishing potion in him, wake him."

"But-" Martha Illiac, a Healer even younger than Isabel who had just started at St. Mungo's, began. Isabel cut her off.

"He won't make it much longer if we don't." She was still largely focused on healing the still gaping, though somewhat smaller, wound on the man's shoulder. Without another word, Martha moved to his other side and slipped a drop of Wiggenweld potion past his lips. His eyes flew open and the pain-wracked scream that tore from his throat raddled Isabel's nerve.

"Sir! Mr. Weasley, please!" She had to yell in attempt to get over his screams. "I need you to calm down! Sir!" But he didn't seem able to hear her. In a rash moment, she threw a hand firmly over his mouth and forcibly made him look at her. For some inconceivable reason, his screams ceased as soon as his eyes landed on hers. His breathing was labored, his chest heaving, and he was obviously still in a great deal of pain, but he was no longer screaming. Somewhere in the back of her mind, Isabel recognized the man in that moment, but there were far more important things to dwell on. "You _need_ to drink this or you _will_ die. Do you understand?" She felt his jaw flex and clench under her hand and he gave a stiff sort of nod.

Isabel gave a short nod in return, lifting her hand from his mouth and taking the proper amount of Blood-Replenishing potion, and then holding the glass to his lips. With a great amount of effort and a deep, pain-filled grunt, he lifted his upper body up enough to swallow the potion, and then he fell heavily back against the pillow. "That's a good man." She offered encouragingly, then glanced at Martha. "Put him back under." She gave an understanding nod, and placed a drop of Sleeping Draught on his lips. He was out again almost instantaneously, his muscles that had been ridged relaxed and all the pain left his face as his eyes drooped shut. Isabel sighed in relief and moved to finish healing the wound when she realized for the first time her left hand was being held tightly by his right. Looking down curiously, and wondering how that escaped her notice for a very brief moment before using her right hand and picking up her wand, healing his shoulder bit by bit.

Even fully closed, his shoulder didn't look normal, but that was due to the fact his collar bone had been basically exploded into nonexistence and the top of his arm bone and inside of his shoulder blade had been damaged. There was also now a long scar that stretched from the curve of his shoulder to down beneath where his collar bone should be. She would wait until his skin had a more healthy color to it to wake him again. Isabel next proceeded to slather the thick orange Burn-Healing paste onto the areas that were marred with burns, from his neck, to the back of his shoulder, down his arm, and over his chest, keeping back any thoughts that weren't strictly medical in nature as she did so. Which of course made her just change her thoughts so they _sounded_ medical related. _Impressive pectorals_. She blushed softly at her own thoughts and suddenly feeling a bit creeperish, moved her thoughts to something else. Like where she recognized him from.

Having a moment to actually consider it, it didn't take long at all for Isabel to realize why she recognized him. It had been over a month, but it wasn't likely she would forget the, rather dashing if she were honest with herself, man who was gaping at her like a blast-ended skrewt had just grown out of her forehead. She'd been positive that there had been something on her face, but Franky said there wasn't and then with Sarah's news and work being so crazy, Isabel hadn't even given the incident a second thought. Until now that is. She came to the conclusion that he must have just been staring off into space, and he didn't realize it until she said something to him. This reasoning made sense to her, it had happened to her once or twice.

Maybe she should move on to _actual_ medical thoughts. Isabel decided that his color had improved enough for her to wake him again and he needed to take the Skele-Gro rather soon. So she prepared herself for more screaming and again put a drop of Wiggenweld potion on his lips. But there was no screaming. His eyes flew open again, glazed over for a moment but focused quickly enough. The pain returned to his face, though he made no other indication he felt it. It was silent for a moment and his eyes fell on hers again. A soft smirk appeared on his mouth, which was about the last thing Isabel expected. He grunted softly.

"Well... I'm seeing you. That means I'm either alive or in Heaven." The corners of his eyes crinkled in light flirtatious humor, even though the pain was still there. Isabel opened her mouth, about to tell him about his shoulder and the Skele-Gro, when his comment finally registered. Her cheeks went pink and she shut her mouth. At this, his smirk widened, but being a professional at work, Isabel righted herself and proceeded to explain about his shoulder.

"We were able to close the wound with little complications, you did lose quite a lot of blood, but we have that under control now, so all that's left to worry about is your bones. You're clavicle, the bone which should be here-" She gently touched the front of his right shoulder. "-was completely shattered, not even there anymore, and the top of your humerus-" Isabel moved her fingers gingerly to the curve of his shoulder. "-was damaged, as well as your scapula." She pointed just barely behind his shoulder. "Have you ever...heard of..." She was mid-explanation when the look on his face made her trail off. He was still wearing that smirk and his eyes were lit up with amusement. He answered her question before she even voiced it.

"Can't keep your hands off of me, huh?" George had missed his opportunity three other times, he wasn't going to let it happen again. He was injured, shirtless, and had absolutely nothing to lose. So it was time to bring on the shameless flirting. Isabel's blush deepened, the tops of her cheeks were now a deep pink color and her hand flinched away from his skin. She cleared her throat and continued to go on about Skele-Gro, but he interrupted her. "If you continue to pretend I'm not flirting with you, it'll only get worse." He winked at her, but again, she all but ignored it and prepared a dose of the Skele-Gro.

"It takes between eight and ten hours, and it will be quite painful-"

"But I'll be able to look at your beautiful face the whole time, right?"

"Merlin... _you _are going to get me in trouble, Mr. Weasley." She responded this time in a low tone, her cheeks still flushed from all his comments.

"Well now see, that's unfair. You know my name, but I don't know yours." He grinned.

"If I tell you my name, will you take the potion?" Isabel countered and he seemed to consider this for a moment.

"Hm... Your name and a kiss, and _then_ I'll take the potion." He suggested.

"In your dreams." Isabel smiled softly.

"More like in yours." George chuckled and winked at her. She held the container of potion out to him.

"I'll make you a deal, take the potion and I'll tell you my name and stay with you until it's over. How's that?"

"Well... it's not a kiss. But I'll take it." He smiled and took the potion from her with his left hand as he wasn't actually able to move his right at the moment. He leaned his upper body forward and started drinking it, only managing to choke on it. Skele-Gro wasn't nearly as easy to swallow as Blood-Replenishing potion, it was more like the consistency of mud and tasted similar to sulfur or rotten eggs.

"Oi, easy easy." She took the container from him and magicked away the small amount of potion he'd sputtered out over himself, suppressing a soft chuckle. "There's no reason to hurry, Mr. Weasley, and you'll need to sit up fully to get this one down." He had a rather disgusted look on his face.

"Tha's vile, it is! Think I like my shoulder the way it is, thank you." George shook his head, nose wrinkled and upper lip still raised slightly in disgust. Again Isabel suppressed a chuckle.

"Oh don't be a child. Come on, let's sit you up." She set the Skele-Gro aside for a moment as he shifted and started pushing himself up with his left arm. His face set in a look of pain and determination. Isabel immediately reached out to help him, one hand going behind him right in the center of his back as her other arm stretched around his front, hand gripping his left forearm to steady him. Pushing against his back firmly, she helped him sit up with less effort and therefore less pain on his part. "All right?" Her face was fairly close to his because of the way she was assisting him and he gave her a smirk which was read clearly enough and brought a soft blush from her. She'd done this multiple times with multiple patients who were in an extreme amount of pain and needed the assistance, the only difference here was the man was shirtless and hell-bent on flirting with her at every turn.

"Perhaps if I had a shirt on, you wouldn't find me so incredibly distracting." George was looking at her with that flirtatious smile still. Arrogance wasn't a trait Isabel admired, but the longer he went on, the more she decided he was far more playful than arrogant. She released his forearm and straightened, leaving her hand pressing firmly on his back. The less he had to use his back and shoulder muscles, the less pain he would feel.

"Perhaps if you'd stop flirting with me for five minutes we could actually get your wounds treated."

"I knew it." His grin widened.

"Knew what?"

"You_ do_ find me incredibly distracting."

"_You_ said that, not me." Isabel countered, grabbing the Skele-Gro with her free hand.

"You're not exactly denying it." He chuckled and took the potion with his good hand, his other arm just laying limply at his side, trying not to move it and ignoring the pain at the same time.

"My name is Isabel Flynn, my friends call me Iz or Izzy, now take your medicine before I have to force feed you." She said, hoping that following through on their little deal might encourage him to drink the Skele-Gro finally.

"Think I might enjoy seeing that actually." George laughed and earned a look from her. "Alright. Alright." He downed the foul liquid as fast as he could, gagging afterwards from the revolting taste. Isabel took the glass from him and set it aside.

"Alright, lay back down." Her hand that was on his back stayed there supporting him as he did so only slipping out just before his back made contact with the bed again.

"So... Izzy you said?" The look of pain and determination he'd been wearing as he laid back again relaxed into a soft smile. "Think I prefer Bell."

"Oh? And why's that?" She probably shouldn't have asked, but she couldn't help herself. She found this man very... intriguing.

"Means beautiful, doesn't it?" He had picked a few things up from Fleur, though _bonjour_ and _belle_ were about the extent of his knowledge.

"Oi... alright Mr. Weasley-"

"George. Anyone who's ogled me shirtless has to call me George." He grinned at her and her blush was starting to spread over her face. Isabel had had flirty patients before, but they were mostly creepy old wizards, not one nearly as persistent as this one and none where she found herself actually wanting to flirt back. She was working though, and determined to keep a semblance of professionalism, on her end at least.

"_Mr. Weasley_, you ought-"

"George." He interrupted again, though Isabel kept going.

"-to get some rest while you can, the Skele-Gro will begin running its course soon and it's unlikely you'll be getting much sleep then."

"You always this thick-skulled, Bell?" George chuckled.

"Hmph, are you always this obnoxiously flirtatious, _Mr. Weasley_?" She had been quite confident what the answer to that was.

"Only with a girl I'm about to ask out on a date." He grinned. She blanked. That was not at all was she was expecting. He chuckled at her shocked expression. "You remember me from the Three Broomsticks, don't you?"

"I- well- you- uh-" She blinked a couple times and cleared her throat. "Yes..."

"I thought as much." He chuckled, still smiling at her. "I was trying to pluck up the gumption to ask you out then, but missed my chance. Now that I've got it again 'm not gonna waste it." There was no need to mention all the other missed opportunities or that he had been looking for her since. Didn't want to scare the girl off.

"I- you-" Isabel stammered, she had about a thousand questions, but they were all racing around in her head and getting stuck on the way to her throat.

"Now you've got the idea, Bell. You and me-" He used his left hand and pointed at them both respectively. "-together. On a date." The shock was wearing down a bit and her cheeks still held a soft pink blush. Isabel had never actually been asked on a date before, and definitely not by a shirtless good-looking man whose shoulder she had just put back together. She'd known ever since she was a little girl that she wanted to be a Healer when she graduated, so between working hard on her studies and being the Keeper for Gryffindor's Quidditch team she didn't really have the time for romantic relationships while she was in school. Not that anyone had ever shown any interest anyways. And then after school for the last two years she'd been working hard on becoming a good Healer and hadn't put the time into it. In fact, Isabel and Sarah used to joke about living together in their apartment until they were old maids with 47 cats each. That was until Sarah found Ben. But that was beside the point. There was now a good-looking- and well-toned, her mind interjected- man who by all accounts so far seemed friendly and funny.

"O-okay." Isabel stammered out of the lingering surprise, but her mind was made up.

"Okay?" George took her stammer as uncertainty. He definitely wanted to take her out, but only if she actually wanted to.

"Yes." Isabel smiled softly. "Yes, I think I'd like that." He had just enough time to grin at her response before his entire shoulder was engulfed in an aching, grinding, tearing pain.

**Author's Note: So I lied. Updating this thing twice a week cause it's already over 35 chapters. so yeah. have fun. read. review. please?**


	3. 3: Long Nights and Big Families

**Chapter 3**

**Long Nights and Big Families**

Isabel had been sitting at his bedside, trying to distract him from the pain for over an hour now. The good thing about the night shift is it was quite a lot slower than the day shift, which meant Martha could pick up the extra slack while Isabel tended to George. Martha was capable enough to handle the less severe injuries that trickled through the Emergency Department at night and to look after the recovering patients. Plus Isabel was right there if she was needed, though so far it'd been a typically slow night.

"George? George!" Isabel turned her head around, hearing someone yelling George's name. It was a stout woman in her fifties with fiery red hair very similar in color to George's, though hers had streaks of sliver; this plus the woman's demeanor made her come to the conclusion that this was his mum. The woman was standing near the double-door entrance beside an annoyed-looking Gertrude, their night shift receptionist.

"Mum?" George answered, his voice tired and riddled with pain. Isabel gently touched his arm in a reassuring gesture, then stood and started over toward the two women.

"I tried me 'ardest I did, the woman wouldn't listen. Be patient, I says. Visiting hours are over, I says. Didn't listen to a word and finally just barged in wif-out warning." Gertrude informed Isabel as she came closer.

"This _woman_ just so happens to be that boy's _mother_." Mrs. Weasley was clearly torqued off, her expression and body language were clear enough even before she opened her mouth. "And _she_-" She gestured angrily towards Gertrude. "-wouldn't tell us a thing! So I decided to find out for myself." She looked around Isabel, anxiously toward her son.

"Was only doing me job!" Gertrude defended. This conversation was getting too loud.

"Thank you Gertrude, go ahead back to your desk. You're doing a fine job." Isabel patronized her, but this seemed to appease her a bit.

"But-" She gestured in protest toward Mrs. Weasley, but Isabel held up a hand, cutting her off.

"I'll take care it, that'll be all." She reassured. Gertrude gave a self-satisfied smile and strode back out the doors. Isabel turned to Mrs. Weasley. "I understand you want to see your son-"

"I won't be taking no for an answer. I've been waiting in that room worried out of my mind for hours." The woman interrupted determinedly.

"And I'll take you over to him in just a moment, but I'd like a word first if that's alright?" Isabel smiled softly. She nodded a bit hesitantly, still looking anxiously George's direction. "Do you know what happened to your son, ma'am?"

"Yes, our other son Fred, he's the one who found George. Said his shoulder was in bad shape, that he found him in the shop passed out and didn't know how long he'd been there. Some sort of accident with the Whizbangs. I _told_ them both they shouldn't be so careless, those things are dangerous. But do they ever listen to their Mum? No. Of course they don't. Should be settling down and giving me grandbabies, not blowing themselves up and giving me heart attacks..." She was going on into a rant and Isabel didn't see an end, so she gently interrupted when Mrs. Weasley took a breath.

"Okay, good, you know what happened. And I'm sure there will be plenty of time later to scold him, but let me explain his injuries to you. Your other son was right, George's shoulder was in bad shape and by the time he had gotten to me, he had lost a significant amount of blood. However, we have since closed the wound and replenished his blood, but there was severe damage and almost complete destruction of some of his bones. I'm telling you all this because George was given Skele-Gro not too long ago, and regrowing bones is a nasty business. He is very tired and in a great deal of pain, so I hope you'll understand when I say you won't be able to visit long tonight. But your son _is_ going to be okay, in fact, by morning he should be right as rain." Isabel explained reassuringly, earning an understanding nod, and then led her over to George.

"Oh you poor dear." She fretted, going to his left side and flattening his disheveled hair. "How're you feeling? Have they given you anything to eat? Certainly- by Merlin's beard! Where is your shirt? Oh you must be freezing..."

"Mum- Mum, I'm alright. Really. It's quite warm in here actually. And the Healers have been more than gracious." He chuckled a bit, his eyes flicking briefly over to Isabel who was back at his right side. Then he shut his eyes tightly, grimacing for a long moment, his left hand instinctively reaching toward his right shoulder.

"'Alright' my foot, they have fed you haven't they? I could go home-"

"Honestly Mum, I'm really not hungry." His eyes were still closed against the intense pain that had been on and off at first, but now seemed it was more on than off. "How're the others doing?"

"Worried. Out of their minds with it really. We weren't told a single thing. Fred's been pacing for hours, Ginny's been crying..." Mrs. Weasley answered gently, but honestly. Isabel felt a slight pang of guilt in her chest. It was her responsibility to inform the family after all, though she hadn't been aware there was any family to inform. Since Greg brought him in and she hadn't been informed otherwise, she assumed there wasn't any family to inform.

"Merlin! Oi..." George's jaw clenched tightly for a moment, then relaxed when the pain ebbed slightly. He looked over at Isabel. "Could they come back too? I'd really like to see them." She didn't have the heart to tell him no, even if it was against the rules. Isabel nodded.

"I'll go get them, you can stay here with him Mrs. Weasley." She could see the woman fussing over her son even as she walked through the doors out into the waiting area. "Merlin..." She murmured to herself, there were a total of eleven people in the waiting room, seven of whom had the same red hair as the two Weasleys she had already met, the other four having varying colors of hair, but it was apparent they were all together.

There was a red-haired girl sitting in one of the chairs, face in her hands, her long hair creating a sort of curtain around her, but the way her shoulders were shaking it was easy enough to tell she was indeed crying. Sitting on one side of her was a black-haired man with glasses, he stood out to her immediately seeing as there wasn't many in the wizarding world who didn't know his face- Harry Potter. He was trying to comfort her. On her other side was another red-haired man, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail, he had a concerned yet far off expression on his face. His arm was wrapped around the blonde woman, who was resting her forehead on his temple with one hand caressing his face. Yet another red-haired man sat directly across from the five of them, he wore glasses and his elbows were resting on his knees, hands clasped in front of him. Next to him was a woman with mousy pin-straight hair who was gently rubbing his back. Beside those two was a red-haired man who even sitting down it was apparent he was quite tall with gangly features, he was sitting with a brown haired woman who was speaking softly with him. A more stocky and rough-looking redhead with both healed and healing burns on his hands was sitting next to them, leaning back in his seat, one elbow propped up on the armrest and supporting his head. The eldest man, appearing in his fifties, with hair as red as the rest, where he wasn't balding, was standing and watching the final red-haired man as he paced the floor. The pacing redhead is the one who gave Isabel pause and why she didn't address them right away. He was the spitting image of George.

"Identical twins... wonky..." She said to herself as she stepped out into the waiting room. "Everyone here for George Weasley?" The pacing redhead was standing in front of her in two seconds flat.

"Where is he? He alright? Is he sleeping? Can we see him?" He rattled off in rapid succession. The eldest of them stepped behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Slow down Fred, let the poor girl answer." He smiled kindly, but looking expectantly at Isabel as the rest of the family came up behind them. Isabel proceeded to explain everything just as she had to Mrs. Weasley, telling them about his injuries, and informing them that it would be a short visit. She was met by a chorus of agreements and eager nods, then led the group of them back into the ward. Mrs. Weasley was covering George up with a light blanket and muttering about decency when Isabel returned with ten others following behind her as one ran ahead and straight to George's side.

"Hey Georgie... how're you holding up?" Fred asked. George cracked a slight grin at the sight of his twin.

"Not bad, mate. I-"

"We've been worried sick we have!" The Ginny interrupted as she came to stand at the foot of his bed, Harry just beside her, his hand on the small of her back.

"Gin, I'm alright, they've-"

"They didn't tell us anything." Bill interrupted this time.

"Eet iz true. We 'ave been waiting for hours." Fleur added in her heavy French accent.

"What's going on-"

"What happened-"

"All Fred said-"

"-blood and fireworks-"

"-unconscious-"

"Didn't know how bad-"

"So many questions-"

"-going to be alright?" They all began speaking at once, asking questions and voicing concerns. Isabel was only catching clips of sentences and it was impossible to tell who was saying what.

"Oi!" Finally after a moment of this going nowhere, Isabel called loudly over them, making them all quiet down as she gained their attention. "I am sorry, but there are other patients and if you can't keep it quiet, you'll have to wait until visiting hours start again in the morning." The family clearly didn't want that as their demeanor changed immediately, speaking more softly and one at a time. Isabel decided to make herself scarce at that point, letting him have the time with his family as she checked on other patients and took a moment to grab a bite to eat. After this there was still a half hour left of the hour she had decided to give them and she was dragging bottom on energy at that point, so she told Martha she was going on break and grabbed a half hour nap on the lumpy sofa in the break room.

Isabel woke to the obnoxious sound of the coo-coo clock she'd set to wake her. She groaned and rubbed her face as she sat up, feeling particularly zombie-like at this point. Grabbing her bag off the floor where she had set it, she pulled out a small bottle of pills, a little dropper bottle filled with clear liquid, a brush, a tube of mascara, and a little mirror. There were a few muggle inventions that Sarah had introduced her to that she didn't know how she'd get along without sometimes. Ibuprofen and Visine being two of those things. Isabel looked in the mirror and groaned, she looked about as zombie-like as she felt. Swallowing three of the little orange tablets and then putting a few drops of the clear liquid in each eye, she then proceeded to brush the mascara onto her eyelashes and fix her hair up into a messy bun. She looked only marginally better, but it was better at least than the living dead. Stretching her back and taking a very long drink of water, Isabel headed back out into the ward and over to where the Weasleys were still conversing quietly around George's bed. Fred was the first to spot her and frowned immediately.

"Suppose this means our time is up?" Everyone now turned to look at Isabel, who gave a slight nod.

"You can all return first thing when visiting hours start, but Geor-" She coughed slightly and caught herself. "Mr. Weasley really needs to get some rest now." George smiled briefly in her direction, and she understood its meaning quite clearly. It was the first time she had, or almost had anyways, called him George. He glanced around at his family.

"You all should go home and get some rest too. I should be whole, bones and all, by morning." He gave a slight chuckle. Most of the family, although a bit grudgingly, agreed readily enough, knowing it was what was best for George. They said their goodbyes and trickled out one by one or two by two, until finally the only one left was Fred.

"Don't suppose you could make one exception?" Isabel looked from the pained expression on George's face to the concerned one on Fred's and despite the fact it was against the rules, again she couldn't bring herself to say no.

"I'll get you a chair, so you're more comfortable." Isabel offered a soft smile and Fred returned it with one of gratitude. She looked at George. "Are you feeling hungry at all? Do you need anything?"

"I am feeling a bit peckish now that you mention it." George answered, his left hand patting his stomach through the blanket. She laughed softly.

"I'll be right back then."

"Hey Bell, our deal's still on, right?" He asked with a slight smirk, only a trained eye would be able to see the concealed pain in the lines of his face. Isabel wondered briefly if he'd picked up on her uncertainty, not sure if she should stick around now that Fred was there. She answered with a soft smile.

"Yeah, it's still on George." Then with a soft blush at the sudden awareness that Fred was watching the exchange, hurried off to retrieve George's food and Fred's chair.

"'Bell' huh?" Fred raised a curious eyebrow at George. "Thought her name was Isabel?" There was a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"It is." George answered nondescriptly, though there was a smirk tugging at his lips as well.

"Mhm. And what's this '_deal_'?" Fred asked, the same expression on his face, but then something changed and it was more akin to realization. "That was _her_ wasn't it? The girl from the Three Broomsticks?" His mind had been otherwise preoccupied, but he thought he recognized her.

"Yeah that's her."

"Seems a bit extreme mate, don't you think? Blowing yourself up just to get a date." Fred chuckled and George laughed lightly in return.

"Yeah mate, nearly blew my arm clean off just to get this girl to go out with me."

"So there is a date?" He smirked. The grin on George's face was answer enough. "It's about time mate. I mean Gin's already married and has a child and you don't even have a girlfriend for Merlin's sake." Fred chuckled teasingly.

"Oh? Hmhm, and what about you? You and Angelina have been on and off since fifth year mate, when are you gonna settle?" George jibed with a light tone in return.

"Haha, you know me mate. I'm a rolling stone."

"Uh-huh. Right." George rolled his eyes at his brother. That might have been both their mantras at one point in time, but they weren't kids anymore. They were twenty-six and the more he thought about it, the more appealing finding a girl to spend the rest of his life with sounded. He knew Fred felt the same no matter what he said.

"And you never answered my question, George. What's this _'deal'_?" Fred asked with an amused and curious smirk. But at that very moment, Isabel returned, placing a tray of food on the bedside table and levitating an overstuffed chair right behind Fred. Stuffing her wand into her robes, she looked at George.

"How are you feeling George?"

"Oh, you know. Never been- better..." His smile faltered into a grimace near the end. Despite the concern in his eyes, the smirk stayed on Fred's face and Isabel had the feeling the only thing keeping it there was prospect of keeping George's spirits up.

"Hey, look'it the bright side, mate. Least you got one wicked scar out of the deal." Fred laughed softly.

"You realize that's one pathetic bright side?" George laughed a bit in return nonetheless.

"You'll be right as rain by morning though, _there's _a bright side." Isabel smiled gently and then gestured to the tray of food. "Are you feeling up to eating?" George glanced over at the food and raised an incredulous eyebrow. It appeared to be a peanut butter and jam sandwich, a banana, and a cookie, all of which were sliced up into bite-size pieces. Isabel noticed the look and decided she ought to explain. "Yes, I know. You're not a child, but you can't sit up without being in an awful amount of pain, and you will be eating with your left hand. It was either this or I feed you. I figured you'd prefer this."

"Actually, he probably wouldn't mind-" Fred began with a humorous tone, but George cut him off, speaking over him.

"Thanks Bell, I appreciate it." George smiled at Isabel and then proceeded to give Fred a look. It was difficult to get used to being called "Bell", especially by this man she had only known a few hours. But she found it endearing and a bit flattering as well and it never failed to bring a soft tinge of pink to her cheeks. She brushed it off with a soft laugh and it occurred to her she had laughed more in this one night at work, than all the other days she'd been at St. Mungo's combined.

"Well, you're welcome. After that, you'll need to try and get some rest." Isabel said as she situated the tray on his lap and propped his pillow up just slightly. She glanced seriously at Fred, who chuckled and held his hands up in mock surrender.

"Alright, I'll let him sleep."

"Not that sleep is likely anyways." George commented, shoveling a few pieces of peanut-butter and jam sandwich into his mouth.

"You'd be surprised what your body is capable of ignoring when it needs rest. But if you don't fall asleep on your own, I'll have to put a sleeping charm on you. Though I'd prefer not to, patients seem more adequately rested when they sleep on their own, but you need the rest regardless." She explained as he ate, waiting until he was finished before magicking the tray away.

"Alright, I'll do my best to fall asleep on my own then." George looked over at Fred. "You should get some shut eye too, mate. You could always come back in the morning-"

"Now why would I do that when I have a perfectly comfortable chair right here?" Fred settled down into the chair and bounced a bit. "Yup, this is gonna be the best sleep of my life. I'm not going anywhere." George rolled his eyes a bit, but chuckled.

"Whatever you say, Fred."

"Now listen to the nice lady and get some sleep, Georgie."

"Git."

"Blighter."

"Night Fred."

"Night George."

"Night nice lady."

"Night Bell."

"Goodnight you two." Isabel chuckled softly at their exchange and stood by the bedside until both George and Fred had nodded off. It didn't take all that long as it was going on two o'clock in the morning and they both had had extremely long days. Once they were sleeping, she made rounds and then grabbed her book before taking a seat in the chair on the opposite side of George's bed as Fred was on. She had made a deal after all, and she planned to stick to it.

Though she didn't get too far in her book, as she found herself watching George sleep with watchful concern. He didn't sleep very soundly and would wake up whenever the pain got too much, though more often he'd just groan and wince or shift in his sleep. It had to be nearing the end of her shift, four a.m., when she jerked awake, seemingly having dozed off for just a moment.

"You look knackered." Isabel's eyes instinctively moved toward the voice and found that it was Fred.

"Thanks for that..." She yawned and rubbed her face, then stood to her feet and stretched her back before visually checking George for any signs that something had gone wrong or gotten worse. "Well, his burns are all but healed and I can see change in the bone shape from last time I checked, so that's good."

"Your shift is over isn't it?" Fred asked, assuming by how tired she looked that she wasn't supposed to be there still.

"Erm- what time is it?"

"Nearing five in the morning." He tapped the face of the watch on his left wrist with his index finger.

"Oh... Well then yes it is. I got off at four." She answered nonchalantly and recovered George's shoulder that she had just been examining with the blanket. He was looking at her in a questioning way that clearly asked, _then why're you still here_? Isabel glanced down at George and then looked back at Fred. "We have a deal."

"Oh?" He smirked slightly, remembering the deal George made mention to earlier, thinking maybe she would tell him what it is. "And what sort of deal would that be?"

"He takes the potion, and I stay with him until it's over." Isabel sat back down in the chair with her book again, satisfied by George's progress. Fred felt like there was more to it than that, but she changed the subject first. "How long have you been awake?"

"Woke just in time to see you nod off actually." He laughed softly and George grunted and winced in his sleep, bringing both of their attention back to him. "How long did you say this would take?" Fred asked, looking warily at the grimace on his twin's sleeping face.

"Eight a.m. It'll be over by eight a.m." She wasn't just reassuring him either.

**Author's Note: Alright! Chapter 3. You know the drill, read and review :) 3 Jenn**


	4. 4: Leaving the Hospital

**Chapter 4**

**Leaving the Hospital**

Three hours of sleep can only carry a person for so long and by the time eight came Isabel was reaching that point of literally falling asleep standing up. She of course wasn't working at this point, it was far too dangerous for her to perform any form of magic outside of the patronus she'd send to Sarah to come take her home, apparating herself in this state wasn't a good idea either. She was still there though, staying near George as she had promised. At some point she did go to the bathroom and wash up, hoping that washing her face and re-applying some make-up would help hide her exhaustion. Again, this helped in a marginal way and not long after she returned to the chair at George's bedside, he awoke.

Fred was conked out in his chair, head drooped sideways on his shoulder and mouth partly open as he snored quietly. Isabel noticed George stirring just as she was standing and froze, watching him for an extended moment to see whether he was actually waking or simply shifting in pain which he had only been doing now and again at this point. But his eyes fluttered open this time and much to Isabel's relief the pain was gone from his face. She didn't like seeing any of her patients in pain, but she especially hated it in this case.

"Good morning, George. How're you feeling?"

"A good morning it is." He grinned up at her, and for the first time since she'd met the man, his smile wasn't undermined by a look of pain in his eyes. "There's no pain. This mean I can get out of here?" Isabel couldn't help grinning at him in return.

"That's exactly what this means." She uncovered his shoulder, revealing a completely normal and healthy looking shoulder. The only indication of the severe injury he had come in with the night before was the six inch scar the remained on his shoulder. She looked at his burns as well, which were completely healed and hadn't left any scarring thanks to the Burn Paste. The Healer on duty came over and examined him much in the same way, clearing him to go and then glancing at Isabel with a soft smile.

"His family arrived in the waiting room just a few minutes ago, would you like me to tell them, or would you like to?"

"I'll take care of it, Darryl. Thanks." She smiled softly in return and he gave a nod then strode off to attend to other duties. Isabel looked back at George, still with the same smile on her face.

"You wanna go out there and tell them yourself?" She suggested, thinking he might like that. He grinned and glanced at his brother who was still snoring softly.

"Better wake 'im first. Oi! Fred! Bacon!"

"Huh? Hm..." Fred woke with a start, quite suddenly aware and rubbing his face. "Wha- where...?" George and Isabel both laughed at the look of semi-awareness on Fred's face.

"I'm all better mate, heading home." George said, grinning still. Fred sat up straight, the sleepiness on his face being replaced with a grin.

"Wicked! We're leaving now?" He asked, hopping up from the chair. George himself was quite eager to get out of that hospital bed and threw the blanket off, standing to his feet. He was only dressed in a pair of now ragged and blood and soot-stained jeans. He didn't know what had happened to his overcoat, or shirt, or socks and shoes for that matter. Isabel, who had been caught off guard by the sudden re-appearance of his bare torso, averted her gaze with a blush and signaled Darryl back over.

"He'd been in too much pain last night to worry about attire, but I think it'd be appropriate to get him some proper clothing before sending him home." Isabel explained as the other Healer came close. Darryl gave an agreeing nod and looked toward George.

"Follow me, Mr. Weasley, we'll find you some clothing." When Darryl turned to show him where to go, George winked in Isabel's direction.

"Good thinking, Bell, don't want my _whole_ family seeing you ogle me shirtless." He whispered so only she and perhaps Fred could hear, standing rather close to her now. She attempted to look stern and gestured for him to follow Darryl, but George only chuckled at the way her eyes were instinctively drawn down from his eyes. "And in a hospital after a serious injury no less, for shame." Her eyes snapped back up to his and her blush deepened, gesturing sharply after Darryl again.

"Go on, _Mr. Weasley_. Before I inform your mother you've been harassing all the female Healers." She whispered in return. He smirked.

"Not _all_." He was looking at her in a way that said 'only one'.

"_Go_." Isabel reiterated, and George listened to her this time, though not before sending another lopsided smirk her way. She rolled her eyes a bit and purposely didn't watch him walk off. Looking back towards the bed he had just vacated, she was met by a curious and amused look from Fred. Much of the conversation she had just had with George had gone unheard by Fred, though that didn't mean the gestures, facial-expressions, and tones had gone unnoticed.

"So when exactly did he ask you out?" He asked with a knowing smirk, figuring by the way they responded to each other that George had already asked. Isabel looked at him questioningly for a moment, though she then figured if George hadn't told him, it couldn't have been that hard for Fred to figure out.

"Last night." Isabel said simply, but before Fred could ask her anymore questions, she quickly stripped the bed, threw the sheets in the soiled linens bin, and walked off to the employee locker room. She changed out of her work robes and put on her street clothes, sending her fennec fox patronus to Sarah, telling her to meet her outside St. Mungo's in five minutes.

Walking back out to the emergency wing, she found Fred and George again, the latter dressed in an ensemble of plain muggle clothing, which they kept handy as St. Mungo's was located in a muggle populated area. Isabel's lack sleep was weighing her down and she was having a hard time even keeping her eyes open, but she wanted to return George to his family, and so she walked over.

"Ready?" She asked.

"You kidding? Been ready for a while now." George grinned a bit in anticipation to finally be out of the hospital. Isabel laughed sleepily in return. "Merlin... think you need to get home too, Bell." He commented, noting how tired she both looked and sounded.

"Yeah..."

"One more thing before you show me out...our date. I was thinking about the Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade next Friday night? About 7?" George asked her with a smirk, that anticipating glint in his eyes.

"Sure...Three Broomsticks...next Friday at 7. Sounds good George." And despite the complete sleep-deprivation, she managed a genuinely excited smile.

"Good." George smiled in return. In fact he was beaming at her, and then without another word, the three of them walked out to the waiting room, Isabel leading them. The same group of people she had seen to the night before were sitting close together in the waiting room, watching the door and waiting for any word on George. Molly, who had been intently watching the doors, stood first on sight of Isabel, followed quickly by the rest of George's family members. Each one of them were looking at her expectantly, but then they spotted George and Fred following her through the doorway and each one of their faces lit up with relief and joy. George was enveloped by his entire family. Fred nodded in thanks to Isabel and then joined them, and she, not wanting to interrupt the family reunion, slipped away and waited outside for Sarah to arrive.

Her mind was foggy from loss of sleep, but it didn't stop her from the thoughts of anticipation for her date with George Weasley. Sarah arrived about two minutes later and the two girls apparated back to their flat. Before Sarah could voice any of the questions that were formulating, Isabel crashed on her bed, asleep before her head even hit the pillow. And there she stayed for the rest of the day.

oOoOoOoOo

George spent the remainder of that day with his family. It wasn't often that they all were together and Molly had insisted on making the most of it, of course everyone else agreed. They all went back to the Burrow where Molly, with the assistance of Ginny, Hermione, and Audrey, made them all a large breakfast. Fleur normally would've helped as well, but her two small children were demanding her attention. Fleur's mum, Apolline, had already been at the Burrow watching twenty-month old James Sirius, two year old Dominique, four year old Victoire, and six year old Teddy while the rest of them were all at the hospital. After breakfast they all sat around the living room and talked, catching up on each other's lives as the children played on the floor. Somehow the conversation came around to Isabel. George and Charlie were the only members of the family who were single, and so Molly was continually trying to set them up. Though because Charlie lived in Romania, the brunt of it fell on George.

"What about that Healer girl? She seemed nice. You're twenty-six and not getting any younger you know, George." Molly suggested with that maternal, concerned and reproving look.

"Oi… Mum…" George rolled his eyes. That was Mum, always meddling.

"Don't let 'im fool you, Mum. He already asked her out. Was shamelessly flirting with the girl all night." Fred chuckled light-heartedly. Molly looked about to chide George again, but much to her disdain, the subject was suddenly changed to George, Charlie, and Bill comparing scars. After deciding Bill's scars from Greyback still beat all, though between his ear and new shoulder scar George came in second, Fred suggested a friendly game of backyard Quidditch.

The men, they even got Arthur to come out and play, plus Audrey were all playing, but everyone went out to the orchard. Apolline, Fleur, and Molly were keeping an eye on the children as they played in the grass. Ginny was watching the brooms zoom back and forth in envy, she'd be up there playing as well if it weren't for little James. Usually she would leave him with one of the other women, but there were times that she chose to stay and chat and keep an eye on her son. Hermione and Fleur, however, were both quite dreadful at Quidditch and when they did play, they were on the back of their respective husbands' brooms. Though not as good as Ginny, Audrey wasn't as dreadful as Fleur and could usually hold her own, but when they had uneven teams she rode with Percy.

It was Arthur, Charlie, Fred, and then Percy- along with Audrey- against Bill, Harry, George, and Ron. George and Fred weren't allowed on the same team, they were both formidable players on their own, put them together and they could dominate both the defense and the offense when there were so few players involved. It was a modified game of course as they had neither bludgers nor a snitch. Each team had a keeper and three chasers, each time a goal was scored it counted for one point. First team to twenty won and then they switched teams and kept going. Once started they could go on for hours, playing game after game without breaking and since this was one of the rare opportunities they were all together to play, they played well past dinner.

The girls, including Audrey who found that Quidditch wasn't nearly as entertaining on the back of another player's broom, took the children inside after a while. They sat around the kitchen table after putting James, Dominique, and Victoire down for their naps, talking away and catching up with each other. Teddy, who was six and wouldn't go down for a nap any longer, stayed with the women, as he wasn't old enough to ride on a broom with Harry yet either. With all her children out of the house, this was something Molly missed dearly, speaking with them on a daily basis. Her and Arthur had briefly discussed moving into a smaller place since it was only the two of them, but they simply could not bring themselves to leave the Burrow. They'd started their family there, they'd raised their family there, and now they were actively watching their children raise their own children there. They had brought moving up with their children as well, but not one of them had liked the idea. Many reasons came up; from where they would have family get togethers to how they would find such a perfect location for so many witches and wizards to gather. But what it really came down to was all the Weasley children, no matter where they went or where they lived, there was a part of them that would always call the Burrow "home".

It was getting late and the boys still hadn't come in, so Molly, Ginny, Hermione, Fleur, and Audrey put together a few large platters of ham and chicken sandwiches to take out to them, knowing they'd go until dark without eating if left to their own devices. Appoline had gone home as Monsieur Delacour would be home from work and she wanted to have dinner prepared for him. So the five women, and four children, brought the platters of sandwiches and thermoses of ice cold butterbeer out to the orchard. Eight hungry men dropped out of the sky, tossing their brooms aside, and attacking the piles of sandwiches like a pack of ravenous wolves. Harry nabbed a sandwich off the platter Ginny was holding and kissed her gratefully.

"Thanks Gin." He grinned, biting into his sandwich. Ginny made a mock disgusted face.

"No touching me until you've showered." She laughed. Bill was near Fleur, Ron near Hermione, Percy near Audrey, and Arthur near Molly, all having similar exchanges as the men scarfed down their food. Charlie was eating his own sandwich while doing an impression of a Chinese Fireball for Victoire and Teddy, who were giggling.

"Uncle Chawie!" The little four-year old squealed in fright and amusement when he roared and sent a stream of fire from the tip of his wand toward the sky. George and Fred stood together, holding a whole platter with no less than eight sandwiches between them and chowing down as they amazed little Dominique and James by shooting multi-colored sparks from their wands. After they had finished the sandwiches and butterbeer, James gave a big yawn stumbled over to Harry, wrapping one little arm around his knee, rubbing his eye with his other little fist.

"Tired little guy?" Harry smiled and scooped his son up in his arms, the boy laying his head on his father's shoulder. Ginny moved to Harry's side and kissed James' hair, then Teddy walked over and hugged Ginny's leg, looking sleepy as well.

"Looks like it's time for us to be going." She said, then yawned herself. Bill and Fleur decided it was time for them to head home as well and so they all said their goodbyes and trickled off, family by family. George and Fred were the last to leave, Molly scolding George about being more careful after everyone else had gone. George leaned down and hugged his mother close.

"I'll be more cautious Mum. Promise."

"You better. No more owls in the middle of the night that my son's at St. Mungo's." Molly said firmly, looking up at George, who nodded with a slight chuckle.

"Yeah Mum. We'll see you around. Bye Dad." He said, stepping back to apparate. Molly hugged Fred.

"Bye Mum, bye Dad." Fred said, stepping back with George after hugging Molly.

"We love you!" Molly called, as she seen them about to disapparate.

"We love you too!" Fred and George said in unison, just barely getting the sentence out before they had disappeared.

**Author's Note: So this one's a bit shorter. Enjoy! R&R 3 Jenn**


	5. 5: Cooking and Courting

**Chapter 5**

**Cooking and Courting**

It was late-afternoon by the time Isabel woke. She had wanted to get up sooner as not to throw her sleep schedule too far out of whack, but she was just too tired to get up when her cuckoo clock went off the first time. So she fell back to sleep without resetting it and woke whenever her body decided it was time. It was after five when that time came and she rolled over, sitting up and rubbing her face.

"Oi..." She groaned seeing the time and flopped back on her pillows. Then the smell of food wafted into the room and her stomach snarled followed by a wave of nauseousness. The only thing she had eaten since before work the day before was her quickly thrown together lunch of an apple and peanut butter and jam sandwich. She really should have eaten before she passed out, but she had just been far too exhausted to think of anything but sleep. Isabel slowly sat with another soft groan, the nauseousness only getting worse. She stood which brought on a bout of dizziness, causing her to sink to the floor.

"Bloody hell... note to self: never do this again." Getting back to her feet and summoning all of her strength not to fall back down and walk carefully into the kitchen, taking a seat on one of the bar stools at the counter. Sarah was cooking. Isabel blinked. Sarah was cooking. She had to reiterate it in her mind to believe what she was seeing and even then she had to say it outloud. "You're cooking..." Sarah looked at her.

"Well good morning to you too, Iz, or should I say good evening?" She laughed, wand out, making something that smelled delicious.

"You're cooking..."

"Is there an echo in here?" Sarah chuckled again. "Really that surprising is it?" Isabel gave her a look. Sarah not only disliked cooking, but admittedly she had absolutely no practice at it and had little desire to learn. "Yeah yeah, I know. Haha. But, well... I gotta learn sometime and I figured you'd be starving when you got up. _And_ I got this new book." She smiled and held up a book she had laying open on the counter. The title read, "Cooking Spells for Slug-Brained Imbeciles" and had an attractive witch on the cover holding a quite appetizing looking treacle tart. Sarah set the book down and waved her wand, a plate with a healthy helping of shepherd's pie situated itself in front of Isabel. Her stomach growled loudly and she picked up her fork.

"You're definitely right about me being hungry." She muffled past a full bite of shepherd's pie.

"How is it?" Sarah asked, looking at her hopefully.

"S'reawwy gooh, Sawah." Isabel garbled, taking a second larger bite. Sarah grinned.

"That's my third batch. The first two... well let's just say it's a good thing I'm better at cleaning spells than I am at cooking spells." She laughed, getting a serving for herself as Isabel continued digging in. "Hm... you're right. It's not bad." Sarah took the stool beside her, eating her own food and summoning a glass of ice water for herself, a glass of milk for Isabel.

"So what's with the sudden urge to cook?" Isabel asked, looking knowingly at Sarah.

"I told you, I..."

"Uh-huh, but all the sudden?" She interrupted with a slight chuckle. "Has something to do with Ben, doesn't it? Actually lemme rephrase, has _everything_ to do with Ben."

"Well..." Sarah smiled softly. "It would be nice to be able to cook for him. I told you about that incredible dinner he made, didn't I?"

"Only about a dozen times. _Ben's so romantic. Ben's so talented and amazing. Ben can cook. Ben, Ben, Ben_..." Isabel imitated, laughing light-heartedly.

"Oi! I don't sound like that." Sarah protested, but she was chuckling as well. "But I should be able to cook I think. Don't look at me like that, Iz. It's because I _want_ to for him. Not because i feel obligated or something." Isabel smiled softly.

"You really like him, huh?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do." Sarah smiled in return. After eating, Isabel volunteered to clean up since Sarah had made it. "So how was work?" Sarah asked in pleasant conversation, expecting some babble about medical things she didn't understand.

"Oh! Merlin Sarah, you will _never_ believe what happened! I was healing this little girl's tibia, she'd broke it playing on her older brother's broom in the backyard you see and..."

"Oi, Iz, slow down, slow down. What're you going on about? And what in Merlin's name is a 'tibia'?"

"It's a shin bone, but that's not important. I gotta date!"

"With a little girl?!" Sarah looked at her like she was a loon, not comprehending her babble.

"What?! No, are you mad?! A man came in with an exploded shoulder after I got done with her-" Isabel began to explain again, but Sarah's eyes went a bit wide, cutting her off again.

"How'd he manage that? You get all the loons I swear."

"That's not the point! And he's _not_ a loon... it was an accident..."

"Oi! You're going on a date with some bloke who blew his shoulder to bits?"

"Well it's not blown to bits anymore, I fixed it. Spent the whole night treating him actually... he's a nice guy from what I can tell."

"From what you can tell. For all you know he could be a murderer or something."

"Well I guess I'll find out Friday, we're going to the Three Broomsticks." Isabel laughed. "If I don't come home you'll know the answer."

"Oi! Don't joke like that, it's not funny." Sarah protested.

"Oh come on Sarah, it's a little funny. A murderer? Really? That's ridiculous." She gave a sort of half laugh, half scoff. Sarah laughed a bit as well.

"Alright, alright. So you're going out Friday with this bloke. What _do_ you know about him?"

"Well... he's _gorgeous_ for one." Isabel blushed softly, a giggly smile on her face as she described him. "I mean maybe not in the typical 'tall, dark, and handsome' sort of way but... he's got red hair, freckles, the most amazing brown eyes."

"Did you even get his name? Or was the physical description enough?" Sarah asked, laughing. Isabel blushed.

"His name is George Weasley, thank you. He's quite funny too."

"Weasley? George Weasley?" Sarah asked as if she was trying to recall something.

"Yeah, why? Do you know him?" Isabel asked in return.

"You remember. Fred and George Weasley. From Hogwarts. We were only first years."

Realization crossed Isabel's face and she wondered how she hadn't made the connection before. She chalked it up to sleep deprivation and the passage of time between then and now. It had been nearly ten years since she was a first year, the year of Umbridge's reign of terror, the year Fred and George Weasley's names went down in Hogwarts' history. Isabel had had one encounter with the Weasley twins during that year, that she remembered at least.

_Isabel walked out of detention where that awful toad of a woman had made her use a blood quill to write "I must not speak out of turn" fifty times. She probably shouldn't have told the woman she was a fat old hag who needed to take herself back to the asylum, but it seemed everything she said went against what her parents taught her. She'd never met a person she had disliked more, but she was only eleven and by the fifth time she wrote it she could barely see the paper for the tears in her eyes. By the end she was full out sobbing, it hurt so much. She was sitting in the hall, cradling her bleeding hand and crying, trying to calm herself down so she could go find her older brother Nigel or Franky or Sarah. Then someone crouched down in front of her, two someones actually._

"He_y, what's all this fuss then?" One of the identical red-haired boys asked with a gentle smile. Isabel had seen the two around, the Weasley twins, Fred and George. They were hard to miss with all the ruckus they caused, though she didn't know one from the other. She sniffled softly, not one to cry in front of strangers and finding their presence curious, her tears slowed._

"_We heard what you told the old bat."_

"_Thought it was brilliant, we did."_

"_Decided to come find you."_

"_And give you this." The one who'd spoke second placed a chocolate frog in her hand and added,_

"_A friend of ours says chocolate always helps."_

"_Now chin up."_

"_A brave little girl like you will be all right." The two of them helped her to her feet and made a big to-do about dusting off her robes, then each others robes, then their own robes, chuckling comically a bit and earning a soft laugh from Isabel._

"_Now hurry along."_

"_If you're quick, you might make dessert." With a soft, grateful, child-like smile in their direction, Isabel scurried off to the Great Hall._

Isabel's fingers absentmindedly brushed over the silvery scar on the back of her left hand of the words that had been etched into her skin nine years ago. She hadn't thought about that day in a very long time. It was one of those memories that was always there, never forgotten, but only truly remembered when otherwise mentioned.

"Iz?" Sarah's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"Yeah? Oh... Sorry, yeah, I remember them now. Huh. That's strange." Isabel said curiously.

"You know what that means?" Sarah asked, and Isabel just laughed and grinned.

"That I have a date with George Weasley, co-conqueror of Dolores Umbridge?"

"Yeah, that, and he's six years older than you."

"What's that have to do with anything?" She raised an eyebrow, not seeing how it was worth mentioning.

"Six years is quite the gap... that's all I'm saying."

"You could be right, but I won't know unless I try. Oi..." Isabel trailed off, suddenly looking very worried.

"What? What is it, Iz?" Sarah asked, a bit concerned by the look on her face.

"What am I gonna wear? Oi, forget that, what do I do? I've never been on a date before. I barely know how to talk to guys I like, let alone go out with one. Alone. Just me. And him. And... bloody hell... what am I supposed to talk about? Or act? I dunno how to flirt. I don't even know why he asked me out in the first place. What if-" She rambled on quickly, looking on the verge of a panic attack until Sarah cut her off.

"Iz! Merlin... You're going to do fine. Just be yourself and if he doesn't like it, that's his problem. 'Cause you are great." She smiled genuinely at her friend.

"Yeah... Any plans for tonight? Wanna go shopping with me? I need a new outfit." She answered dismissively and changed the subject. Sarah shook her head slightly, Isabel was always doing that, dismissing her compliments.

"Oi... you _are_ great Iz. And just because you completely ignore me when I say it, doesn't make it any less true." Sarah reiterated with a friendly smile, and then giggled adding, "And of course, I'd love to go shopping with you."

oOoOoOoOo

"The Three Broomsticks? _That's_ your idea of a first date, mate?" Fred laughed a bit incredulously. They were busy at the shop, cleaning up the disaster that the malfunctioning Whiz-Bang had caused. Their entire fireworks stock was now depleted, or more like exploded, and they would have to start from scratch. It would take months to replenish the stock they had built up. Fred didn't honestly care though. He would've rebuilt the shop from top to bottom if the need had been so, as long as George was alive and able to do it with him.

Fred had been the one to find him, laying on the floor of the shop, bleeding out in the midst of spent fireworks and soot, a handful of Whizbangs still looping around the room. It was a sight that had chilled him to the bone. The reality was, he could've lost his twin that night and Fred had never been more grateful in his life. Not even when he himself had narrowly escaped death on that night at the Battle of Hogwarts. But now there were more beautifully mundane things to focus on. Like getting the shop back up to par and Georgie's new little gal friend.

"What's wrong with the Three Broomsticks?" George asked. "It's a first date, I wanna get to know 'er and she seems to like it there well enough."

"Who takes a girl to a pub on their first date? Unless they're a drunk?" Fred chuckled, thinking this should be fairly obvious.

"Oi, it's not _just_ a pub."

"On Friday night it is."

"Merlin..." George stopped cleaning the black powder off the floor and ran a hand through his hair, suddenly worried he'd ruined the date before it even stated. He didn't have any way of contacting her to change it.

"And well... she might question your intentions mate." Fred added a bit more cautiously. He knew his brother and knew his intentions weren't any of the sort, but he didn't know Isabel and she didn't know him.

"What do you mean? I just-" George cut himself off and his eyes widen, realizing. _So he finally asks her out and now she's gonna think he just wants to get her drunk and-_ the tops of his cheeks tinge red at the thought. He wasn't the one-night stand kind of bloke, but how was she to know that? "Bloody hell..."

"Also... well, she agreed with no questions..."

"What're you getting at?" George questioned, though he had a pretty good idea. But she wasn't that kind of girl. Was she?

"Well... what if she thinks this is just a hook up mate?" Fred asked a bit tentatively. He knew George really liked this girl, but what did he really know about her? George thought about it for a minute, but it didn't fit at all with the image he had of her. She blushed at every little compliment. There was no way she would have agreed if she thought that. Right?

"No... I mean... She said she was on a double shift right? She looked bloody knackered when I asked her... Maybe she didn't think about it. She didn't think... She couldn't of, right?" George ran his hand through his hair again. Fred had to admit, she didn't seem like the type.

"Yeah, you're probably right."

"Great..." Now the only problem was, would she show up?

**Author's Note: Will she show up? Will she freak out? Will things end before they ever start? Tune in next time to see what happens. (also, reviewing helps too :) ) 3 Jenn**


	6. 6: Date or Disaster?

**Chapter 6 **

**Date... Or Disaster?**

Isabel had been extremely excited about her date, and a bit nervous too, but the overpowering feeling of the two was excitement. Her and Sarah made a trip to Diagon Alley on Tuesday, her day off, and spent the day shopping for her outfit and using the extra time just going from shop to shop enjoying the time together. Getting lunch at stall that sold fish and chips wrapped in old editions of the _Daily Prophet_, then a mid-afternoon snack at Florean Fortescue's, ending the day at the Leaky Cauldron with a couple of butterbeers.

Work on Wednesday and Thursday seemed to drag on for Isabel, but it was Thursday night finally, the night before her date and she was hanging out with Frank and Sarah. They went to the muggle cinema to see some silly moving pictures called _"Around the World in 80 Days"_ about some loony muggles trying to fly around the earth in some strange contraptions that they invented. Isabel at least thought it was entertaining enough, and was amazed at all the things that muggles could do without magic. Sarah, who was muggle-born and knew all about these sorts of things, would explain some of the muggle humor to them and that just because they seen it on the screen, doesn't mean it really happened. Muggles could use another muggle invention called _computers_ to make images without their being anything to take the picture of. Isabel thought it was fascinating. Crafty intelligent buggers those muggles were.

After the movie the three went back to Sarah and Isabel's flat to hang out. Sitting around the table, drinking tea and playing some exploding snaps for a little while, until Sarah stood.

"I gotta get going, meeting Ben for dinner. He really is sorry about not being able to make it to the movie. Working late." She explained. Isabel stood and hugged her goodbye.

"No worries. We'll catch 'im next time. You two have fun." Isabel smiled and Frank mumbled something incoherent from his seat at the table, which had no doubt been some sort of insult toward Ben.

"Thanks Iz. Bye Franky." Grabbing her purse and a light jacket, Sarah stepped out the door to apparate away.

Frank had been extra busy at work the last few days or so. He was part of the Obliviator Headquarters in the Department of Magical Disasters and Catastrophes at the Ministry of Magic. A muggle had somehow captured a unicorn and had been showing it off to his neighbors and the surrounding neighborhoods. Word was spreading quickly and everyone in the division was called out to the field to do damage control. They had to work with the Office of Misinformation to cover up the story and convince the muggle population that the unicorn wasn't real. The Beast Division of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, where Isabel's older brother Nigel worked, also got involved on behalf of the unicorn and returning it to its natural habitat as well as finding out how it was captured and how to prevent it in the future. It was a mess. Frank said it was the largest magical beast fiasco since the Loch Ness Monster sightings.

"But enough about work. What's been going on with you, Blondie?" Frank asked.

"Oh you know, work..." Isabel started nonchalantly, barely able to hide her grin. "And I have a date tomorrow." Frank's face fell just slightly.

"Oh? Who with?"

"George Weasley. You remember him from school right? I met him at Mungo's last Friday."

"George Weasley..." Frank paused a moment, recalling the name. "Oi! How old is 'e?"

"Oi... It's only six years Franky and it's just a date. Merlin, you and Sarah act like I'm signing up to marry the bloke." She defended.

"Right, right... well where're you going then?"

"The Three Broomsticks tomorrow evening. He-" She began, but he interrupted.

"_The Three Broomsticks?_" Frank asked incredulously.

"Yeah, that's-"

"_On a Friday night?_"

"Yes-" She was getting a bit exasperated, but he interrupted again.

"This git is taking you to a bar on Friday night for your first date?!" Frank looked practically livid. "And you _agreed_?!" Isabel hadn't really thought about it, she really didn't see what he was so up in arms over it.

"W- what's the big deal?" She asked, looking at him confusedly.

"Merlin! You're thick you are..." He shook his head a bit. "This prat wants to get you sloshed and take you back to his flat." Her entire face went beet red, right to her ears.

"No- no, that's not... not possible... why would he... why would anyone... that's... that's ridiculous..." It didn't make a single ounce of sense.

"Naive, thick, and self-deluded, what a combination..." Frank muttered, then looked firmly at her. "You're not meeting this wanker, end of story."

"Oi!" Not only was she entirely certain that he was wrong, but she didn't like hearing him refer to George that way either. It just... it _couldn't_ be true. He'd been too nice. Too sincere. Too funny. Not to mention, she didn't exactly attract the sort Frank was talking about. Actually, she really didn't attracted any sort, but _definitely_ not that sort. It just- it wasn't possible. Was it? "You can't tell me what I can and cannot do, Frank. You didn't meet 'im. I did, and 'e wasn't like that at all."

"Merlin, but Iz, blokes like that... they know just what to say, how to act, to get girls like you."

"You mean the naive, thick, and self-deluded ones?" Isabel glared slightly, not appreciating being called those things.

"No, beautiful ones." Frank returned, as if it were a straightforward fact. To this Isabel scoffed. "I'm not joking Iz, blokes are drawn to you, the gits included." It was true. He had, and admittedly selfishly so, chased away more than one bloke back in their school years. Of course she didn't know this... and never would.

"I'm going, Frank. And that's that." She said defiantly, basically ignoring his last comment. Not long after that, Frank stormed out in a huff and Isabel went to bed. It was late and she was tired, it'd been a long day at work, but still she found herself staring at the ceiling. The doubts were now seeping in and taking roots in her mind. What if Frank was right? What if George's intentions involved only one thing? She didn't exactly know him. How much could you tell from knowing a person for a night? He was practically a stranger to her. Why had he suggested the Three Broomsticks if not for what Frank had said? Was George just pretending? Putting on the charm to get her there? But then why? Why her? Why not Martha? Or someone else prettier and more attractive? She couldn't fathom it. And then she had also met his family. That wasn't something he could fake. But then, once again, it came back to why the Three Broomsticks?

Isabel kept going back and forth in her mind, unsure what to think, unsure what to do. She finally fell asleep, all of these doubts and contradicting thoughts cluttering her mind.

oOoOoOoOo

It took a couple days, but, with the help of family and a few friends, Fred and George had the shop up and going on with business per usual. They worked a couple extra hours each night, and even during shop hours when Verity was holding down the fort, to replenish all the Whizbangs that had been destroyed. It was extremely busy, during the summer the had the largest influx of patrons, but even in all that activity, George's anxiousness never completely subsided. It was finally Friday and they were closing up shop early, things were winding down and his nervousness over the date was hitting full force again. All the worries resurfacing anew.

He was rather quiet as they closed and it hadn't gone unnoticed by Fred, but when he questioned him on it, George sort of just brushed him off and ran up to the flat to get ready. He had a good two hours before the set time they'd agreed on and after shaving, showering, dressing in a good pair of jeans and a button-up long-sleeve shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he still had over an hour. George hadn't even realized he'd been rushing around to get ready, but his mind had been elsewhere the entire time. He was hoping for best case scenario, she wouldn't think anything of it just like he hadn't meant anything by it. But the majority of him was worried she just wouldn't show up and go on thinking he was just some low-life.

He couldn't worry the whole night away though, and after waiting impatiently until it was ten to seven, he grabbed his jacket and apparated to the Three Broomsticks.

oOoOoOoOo

Isabel woke with the same worries she fell asleep with. She spent almost the entire day getting ready, going back and forth with herself on whether she was actually going to go or not. Going through outfit after outfit, only to end up picking the one she'd tried on first which had been the one she bought with Sarah. A pair of dark bootcut jeans, a yellow sort of graphic tank-top, which was flowy and blouse like in style, layered over a black lace camisole. She wanted to look nice, but still casual and still her and Sarah had said the yellow looked good with her hair and skin tone. Isabel just took her word for it. She also liked the detailing on the front, which was two large black glittery butterflies over some paint-spatters of color.

Even after deciding she liked the outfit, she still wasn't sure if she was going. There was still the chance Frank was right, right? Indecisiveness and worry knotted up her insides. For a while she decided she wasn't going and sat on the couch with a book, trying to distract herself. But not even one of Sarah's books by Ted Dekker, a muggle author who wrote some of the most engrossing stories Isabel had ever read, could keep her attention. What if Frank was wrong? And even if he was right, what was the worst that could happen? If he ended being a jerk she could just leave right? And if he tried to make a move, well she had a really nasty Slug-Vomiting charm that she was pretty brilliant at.

So once again she had decided to go, showering and then doing her hair and putting on a bit of make-up, but still going back and forth in her head. Though she was slowly convincing herself that she had to go. She would end up wondering what would've happened. She had to at least go and find out if he was just some jerk. It wasn't until she was pulling on her flats that she realized that she was running late. Snagging her purse, she hurried out and disapparated to Hogsmeade, taking a deep breath and walking into the Three Broomsticks.

George was starting to think that she wasn't coming, sitting at the bar and making absent-minded conversation with Rosmerta as he sipped his barely touched butterbeer. He would instinctively look to the door every time it opened, getting a bit more disappointed every time it wasn't her. The Three Broomsticks was hopping that night, as was to be expected on a Friday evening. The atmosphere was full of loud and merry chatter, a friendly and cozy feeling emanated from the warm little pub and George was really the only one there alone. The other patrons were accompanied by friends and significant others, talking and having a good time. He thought he probably looked pretty pathetic sitting there at the bar on his own, but there he would sit all night waiting until either she came or they closed.

George heard the clinging of the bells that were strung to the door and then felt the draft of outside air on his back. He turned his head once again to check, then looked back down at his mug of butterbeer. When would she- His head jerked back up, having to do a double-take. It _was_ her. He thought she had looked pretty at St. Mungo's with her hair pulled back and her fringe constantly falling in her eyes. But now her hair was down, flowing down past her shoulders in long blonde waves and he was reminded of that first time he saw her in this place. She hadn't spotted him yet, her deep blue eyes were searching the establishment as she stood in the doorway, so he had time to gather himself a bit. George went over to her, gently touching her shoulder to get her attention.

"Hullo Bell." He grinned at her. Isabel's eyes jerked to his and she smiled tentatively, a soft blush formed on the tops of her cheeks.

"H- hey, George... All right?" She asked. As soon as he called her Bell she was reminded of all the reasons she thought he was a genuinely good man.

"Fantastic actually." George smiled, offering his arm and gesturing toward the door with his other hand. "Shall we?" Isabel gave him a bit of a puzzled look and he just kept smiling at her. "What? Did you think our date was here?" She felt wary, because of what Frank had said, but at the same time she couldn't help the excitement that shot through her stomach at the look on his face and the entirely new situation with entirely thrilling prospects. Puzzled expression still on her face, she tentatively slipped her hand around his forearm in the customary way.

"Where then?" She asked curiously.

"You'll see." George answered with a smirk, looking her in the eye. Isabel knew she probably shouldn't, but looking in those brown eyes of his, she couldn't help but trust him. She gave a slight nod and he led her out into the street. It was a cloudy night so she couldn't see the stars, but the moon was visible through the clouds well enough, peaking out and lighting the streets as they walked along. "How's your week been going?" He asked as if everything was perfectly in order. And for him it was, but Isabel was excruciatingly curious, looking around where they were heading, but as far as she could tell there was nothing spectacular about where they were going. In fact, if memory served her correctly, they had already passed all the shops located along the path.

"It's been, going... oi, where are _we_ going?" She asked, getting more and more curious.

"I thought we agreed that was a surprise?" George chuckled.

"What if I don't like surprises?" Isabel questioned.

"Oh, you do." He answered confidently.

"Oh? And how would you know?" She raised an eyebrow.

"You like surprises _and_ you're impatient." George chuckled. "That's a good combination actually, for the person doing the surprising at least." She would've stuck her tongue out at him if she knew him better, and she almost did, but instead she just looked at him curiously.

"Are we almost there then?"

"Haven't you ever heard of enjoying the journey?" He laughed again, a bit amused by her. "But yes actually, we are." They stopped and Isabel looked forward. There was a cozy looking, thatched-roof home standing in front of them. It was a squat little building, quite close to the ground with warm light emanating from the two windows which were evenly spaced off to the sides of the rounded oaken door. Ivy climbed up the gray stone wall, following the jigsaw pattern of the stones up to the roof. Situated right by the door, and lit by a wall lantern, was a small wooden sign that read, "Country Cottage Inn". With the arm that wasn't still being held by Isabel, George pushed open the little wooden gate that was set in the center of a hedge, and led her up the thin cobbled path.

"I didn't know this was here." Isabel said, looking at the little building and wondering how she had missed it. She had been to Hogsmeade countless times and never once had been there.

"Its quite out of the way, not as big as the Three Broomsticks or Madam Puddifoot's so it can go unnoticed. But they've got some of the best roast beef and jacket potatoes I've ever had." George chuckled. "Just don't tell my Mum that."

He opened the door and gestured for her to walk through, following in behind her. It was as warm and cozy on the inside as it had looked on the outside. A dozen or so round tables of varying sizes were spaced around the room, the bigger ones with four chairs and the smaller with two. Less than half the tables were occupied but the little diner smelled incredible, the scent of freshly baked pies and tarts wafted through the room, mixed with more savory scents as well. If the scent alone was this appetizing, Isabel couldn't wait to try the food. And her stomach agreed rather loudly. George chuckled and she blushed deeply.

"Hungry Bell?" He murmured to her as a kind-looking young woman let them to one of the smaller tables in front of a window which looked out on the gardens in the back of the property. In everything else going on, she _may_ have forgotten to eat. Her only response was the soft blush on her face still as they took their seats.

"My name is Delah, I'll be waiting on you two tonight. I'll give you a few minutes to look over the menu." Their waitress smiled politely, then went off to check on her other patrons.

"Well, I'm pretty hungry myself. Ever had Shepherd's pie? Its one of my favorites to get from here." George said, chuckling a bit as he picked up the menu. Isabel followed suit, picking up the one in front of her and looking over it.

"I love Shepherd's pie actually. Hm..." She said, trying to decide. "Everything sounds good."

"I know what you mean." He laughed a bit. "You really can't go wrong here though."

"Haha, great... give an indecisive person a dozen great choices. We might be here all night." But her stomach betrayed that notion with another grumble.

"I think she disagrees." George chuckled and Isabel blushed again, but this time giggled softly as well. "I'd say there's no rush, but I think you're poor stomach thinks otherwise. I could order for you?" He offered with a smile, which she returned with one of her own.

"Go ahead." She agreed. He set their menus aside and their waitress returned.

"Are you two ready then?" She asked, smiling kindly.

"Two of the specials please, and-" George looked at Isabel. "What do you want to drink lovely?"

"Tea and ice water please." She responded, looking at Delah, still trying to get used to the way he called her "lovely".

"I'd like cherry syrup and soda, please." He requested. The waitress nodded.

"I'll have your drinks right out and your food'll be up shortly." She smiled and went off. Isabel looked at George.

"What's the special?"

"You'll find out." George grinned and Isabel laughed in amusement.

"Another surprise?"

"Yup." He said, still grinning. "And you won't get it outta me either, just gonna have to wait."

"Thought we already established I'm not good at waiting?" She laughed softly in return. Delah returned and set their drinks in front of them, before leaving them to their conversation.

"Guess this is a good way to practice then. So why don't you tell me about yourself while we wait?" He replied with a smile, taking a sip of his soda and leaning in a bit to give her all of his attention. Isabel blushed softly and stirred a bit of sugar into her tea to give her hands something to do.

"Oh, well... what do you want to know?"

"Just... everything." George laughed, enjoying the way her blush reddened her cheeks. There was no way she was the kind of girl Fred talked about. "How did you know you wanted to be a Healer?"

"Oi, well there's a question..." She hesitated a bit in her answer, thinking the full reason wasn't exactly first date conversation. "Is was the Battle of Hogwarts that made me decide actually." As well as the death of her parents and a few other things that had brought about the decision.

"You were going there at the time? Or had you already graduated?" He asked, interested.

"I was... a third year actually..." She was wondering how he would react to the age gap.

"Merlin... that's quite a lot of horror for a thirteen year old to see... I remember Professor McGonagall only allowing the seventh years to fight. Though, there was at least one young Gryffindor who snuck out to fight as well... Colin I think his name was..." He sighed. "Did you sneak out too?"

"Yeah. Colin Creavy... He was three years ahead of me..." She went silent a moment, lost in thought, but then shook it off and offered a gentle smile. "Yeah, I did. Determined to help I was." George laughed softly.

"I think I could see that. I bet you got high marks though." He thought she looked both smart and brave. Especially because you couldn't be anything less to be a healer.

"I did well enough, I suppose." She said a bit dismissively

"You'd have to get at least five N.E.W.T.s to become a healer. Don't give me that." He could tell she was being modest.

"Two specials." The waitress interrupted with a smile, setting a plate of piping hot and delicious smelling food in front of each of them. "Is there anything else I can get you?" She asked, looking to either of him.

"I'm fine." George said and glanced as Isabel, who shook her head.

"Alright, well enjoy your meal, I'll just be around if you need anything."

"Merlin... it looks- it _smells_ delicious." Isabel said, staring at the large, steaming plate of lamb chops, jacket potatoes, and all the fixings.

"It _is_ good. Go on, tuck in." George smiled and started eating his food. Isabel took one bite and had to force herself not to scarf it down like a ravenous wolf. She couldn't decided if the food was just that good, or if she was just that hungry. It was probably due much to both. Though she did manage to eat like a normal person and carry on a conversation with George throughout the duration. They stayed for a while in the cozy atmosphere after they had finished with their food, talking and getting to know one another. Then George stood after taking care of the bill, ignoring Isabel's insistings to pay her half, offering her his hand. She took his hand and stood with a soft chuckle.

"Gentleman to a fault." George smiled softly at her, intertwining his fingers with hers and leading her back out into the night. She shivered at the stark difference in the cool, damp, early summer's night air from the cozy interior of the inn. She folded her arms in front of her, wishing she'd remembered her coat. Without a word, he slipped his jacket off and placed it over her shoulders. She almost protested, but as soon as the warmth and incredible scent of the jacket enveloped her, she couldn't help but sigh and bring it further around her. Isabel slipped her arms into the sleeves, ducking her head slightly and bringing the lapel up to her nose, inhaling deeply. George smirked softly over at her, his fingers wrapping around hers once again.

"Better lovely?"

"Hm... so warm..." She murmured into the material of his coat, blushing a bit and still holding it to her face a moment longer, before letting it fall. "Thanks, George."

"No problem Bell." They fell into a bit of comfortable silence as they walked. Isabel warming herself in his coat and George playing with her fingers, mutually enjoying the quiet night. She was just about to ask where they were headed, when she felt a drop of rain land on her cheek. She looked instinctively up at the sky. George must have felt the same because he glanced upward about the same time. And then, almost without warning, the sky opened up and began to pour down rain. They were both nearly immediately soaked to the bone. Isabel yelped in surprise and at being suddenly so cold and wet. Then she was being tugged along, running and being led through the rain by only George's hand that was still holding hers. She couldn't see but blurs and shapes for the rain was pouring so hard.

"Where are we going?!" She had to nearly yell over the sound of the downpour, wondering if he even knew where they were headed.

"I dunno!" He called back with a laugh, unable to see any better than she could. They were still a ways out of the main village and any lanterns that had been lit were put out by the copious amounts of water falling from the clouds above. Finally they stumbled on some form of structure, which had been shrouded by the rain until they were literally on top of it, stumbling up a set of creaky wooden stairs. George's hand kept her steady as they trudged along and plowed through an old wood door. "Bloody hell... of all the luck!" He gasped out as he caught his breath, drenched to the bone.

"Wh-where a-are we?" Isabel asked, looking about the old age-worn building, shaking from the cold. It creaked and moaned with each gust of wind, the torrential rain beating against the panels of wood and leaking through the ceiling at some points. "Is this-" A shiver cut her off as she moved a bit further into the house.

"Merlin, Bell, you're frozen to the core, you are." George said, concerned as he came up behind her, taking his coat off her. It would be more harm than help now since it was soaked through as well.

"I-I-I'm fine." She shuddered and gave a bit of a shaky chuckle at the contradiction between her voice and her words. He chuckled softly and shook his head a bit.

"'A course you are. Just hold still a minute." George said, lifting his wand. Murmuring an incantation, he swished his wand in a slow circular motion in front of her, drawing all the water from her clothes. He proceeded to do the same for his clothes and then his jacket before draping it back over her shoulders.

"Thank you." Isabel said, pushing her arms through and pulling it around her again, but it didn't hold the same warmth as it had before. Even though she was dry now, she was having a hard time of it getting warm.

"Merlin, you _are_ freezing, aren't you?" He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, rubbing his hand warmly up and down her arm. "Com'ere." He said, leading her to a part of the house that was least drafty, in a hallway toward the center.

"Some storm." Isabel commented, listening to the wind howl and the rain pelt on the exterior. "What do we do now?"

"Suppose we wait it out. Bloody awful out there. Come on, let's see if there's a fireplace in here somewhere." George suggested, arm still around her shoulders.

"We could always burn a chair or something to keep warm." Isabel suggested with a slight laugh as they walked through the house.

"Actually not a bad idea really." He chuckled as they came into a room which seemed like it may have once been the living room of sorts. It was old and rotten with remnants of old furniture and bits of wallpaper still clinging to the walls, but there was a fireplace. Together they cleaned it out and built up a dry wood pile, starting a fire. George and Isabel settled down close to it and talked to pass the time as they waited out the storm. They talked for quite a long time actually, sitting there and keeping each other warm as the storm raged outside. She'd been asking about his work and he'd been describing some of their inventions he and Fred sold at the shop. That's when he'd noticed she had been quiet for a while.

"Getting sleepy are we Bell?" She didn't respond to that either. "Bell?" George tilted his head so he could see her face which was resting on his shoulder as she leaned into his side, his arm wrapped around her. "Oi, you _are_ asleep. Hmhm." He smiled softly in an amused way, then he realized he had absolutely no idea where to take her. Not to mention he could still hear the rain against the roof. He decided he would have to wake her to get her home, but he'd wait until the rain had stopped. Though he was feeling rather warm with her in his arms in front of the fireplace and tired from the long day as well. It didn't take much longer for him to doze off, his head resting atop of hers.

**Author's note: Since I only put up one chapter last week, I decided to post this one early. :) 3 Jenn**


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